


Make The Most Of Freedom

by Vicarious_Virgo



Series: The Thing About Royalty [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Cursed Ranboo, Gen, Grief/Mourning, In no way canon, Minor Character Death, Not about the real people, Ranboo-centric, Royal!Ranboo, This was all practice, War, gore in chapter two, no beta we die like men, not edited, royal au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29425971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vicarious_Virgo/pseuds/Vicarious_Virgo
Summary: “There is a story, a myth, a legend, whatever you may call it. About an ancient race...”OrA millennia of his bloodline speedrunning the Same curse leads to Ranboo meeting a strange group of people.
Relationships: Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Technoblade, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: The Thing About Royalty [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2161605
Comments: 22
Kudos: 347
Collections: Ranboo Is Best Boi





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when reading:  
> \- I wrote this in four different sessions so the writing styles might change, super sorry about that!  
> \- I edited this while very tired, so I probably missed stuff. 
> 
> And that’s it! Enjoy!! <3

There is a tale, a myth, a legend, about an ancient race that wondered our world. The race was just like me and you, But with pointed ears and magical abilities. They explored the world and built upon it. All While the Gods watched on idly. Eventually, the Gods made more races to be friends with the original race. This legend focuses on the original. 

One day, a miner found a large crystal. Fascinated with his discovery, the miner took it to their King. The King and his court soon found the crystal’s true power. Astonished, the race began using the crystal to power new technology. Members of this race celebrated, keeping the technology to themselves. This angered the other Kings and Queens, causing a war which caused devastating destruction to take place. The war raged for many years until the Gods got fed up and delivered the King an ultimatum. 

“Share your technology with the others, or there will be consequences.” The God’s demanded. 

“No!” Said the King. “Our people have worked day and night to use the crystals properly, why should we share them?” 

“Look at the destruction your causing to your people! Surely the men and women who have died on the battle ground would want peace?” 

“The crystals are more important.” The King stubbornly said. 

“Fine then,” the God’s said “Are they worth more than your people?” 

“More important than everyone else on this planet.” 

In response to that declaration, the God’s killed every being on the planet but the king. 

The King realized his mistake months later, after figuring out that he could not provide for himself. One day, all by his lonesome, he went to check on the crystal from where it was under the castle. From there, it powered everything in the city. 

Then suddenly, an idea struck. 

It was never recorded how, but the legend says the king used the crystal’s power to raise his dead kingdom and enemies. The souls re-entered their bodies, alive again. But this time, their body’s were in a constant state of decay. Their once pink and brown flesh was slowly losing it’s pigment. 

Desperately, the King went back to the God’s. 

“Gods! Gods!” He cried. “I brought everyone back but you have to heal them!” 

“Why should we?” They asked, “you caused this.” 

“I did, and I take responsibility. But they shouldn’t have to suffer. I’ll take whatever punishment you give but, please help my people.”

The Gods, reluctantly agreed. However, when they saw the animated corpses of beings who once resembled humans, they were disgusted. They had made an agreement though. So, the God’s shaped a new race out of the King’s subjects. They were taller now, with skin as black as the void. Their eyes were now a glowing purple. 

The king thanked the Gods, before sadly wondering about his previous enemies. They Gods only agreed to help the king’s people. With passion and anger, The King bargained his own life for his enemies. So, the Gods set a curse upon him. 

The enemies bones and flesh would be reanimated in return for the King’s humanity. By the time he turned eighty, the king would become a dragon. Additionally, the curse would travel through his bloodline, their human time getting lower and lower through the generations. 

Disgusted by what their humans had become, The Gods sealed them away in another dimension. They took the sun from that dimension, placing it another world with new humans. 

Despite the evidence of the ancient races in numerous strongholds, and the numerous attempts at contact from the kingdom, no one has actually had contact with the Undead Kingdom. No one’s sure if it exists, everyone too wary to approach the kingdom of the dead. 

Of course, until now.

* * *

Ranboo found himself impatiently leaning his chin into his hand. The fabric of his mask meeting the cloth gloves encasing his hands. Behind him, his mother adjusted her sleeping position, her breathing breaking the tense silence. His tail flicked irritability as he cleared his throat. With a stern voice, he repeated the question that was the cause of the silence. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Ranboo watched as the unwanted visitors tensed up again. He knew what he must look like, the lighting was dim today. So, in theory they only saw his vague outline. 

Finally, the one in green spoke. 

“Your highness,” the human bowed. “Please, we need your help.” 

Ranboo found anger curling up in his chest. Similar to the dragon resting behind him. He found himself scoffing before his brain to mouth filter could work. The petty sound causes the rest of the humans to look up at him. 

The young king ends up dissolving into bitter laughter. The sound was hollow and from where they were hidden in the shadows of the room, the knights stiffened. This wasn’t the sweet boy they knew, this boy was finally latching onto his mother’s teachings. Finally, the laughter died. 

“I-I’m sorry that’s kinda funny.” Chuckles turned a few of his words into stutters. “But you want our help? After your kind has cast us out for centuries? Give me one reason you should leave here alive.” Ever the one for theatrics, Ranboo focused the energy on his eyes. 

It was a common sign of aggression or hostile intent with his people, and a code for the nearby guards to prepare if anything went south. Red and green light softly emitted from his eyes, causing the group to tense up more if possible. The young king watched as the pink haired warrior behind the man in the green spoke up. 

“We can lift the curse on your people.” The man’s monotone voice seemed to ring throughout the throne room. From where he sat on his throne, Ranboo took in a shocked gasp. 

_He’s lying to you, little king. No one has been able to free us for millennia._ The soft voice of his mother filtered into his head. 

Still sitting in silence, Ranboo clutched the fabric of his cape in his taloned hands. He released the fabric and sent a thought back to her. 

_But what if he’s not?_ silence replied to his question, instead a vague filling of suspicion filled his head from her connection. 

With a sigh, the king of the undead took a deep breath and released it, focusing his energy on where it went. The breath traveled through the room, lighting each of the torches along the wall. The soft purple light revealed the guards who were previously hidden in the shadows. Their forms were not opaque, however, their forms were a simple black smoke-like figure with purple eyes. They were in between being transparent and completely solid, able to shift in case of attack. 

Ranboo inhaled through his nose, ignoring the burning sensation in his throat. The breath had even traveled up to the chandeliers, lighting the wither and skeleton archers hidden in the beams of the room. The teen sent a wave of pride towards his mother at being able to light the whole room. The feeling was sent back. 

Before the room was fully lit however, Ranboo matched the form of his guards. Only the vague form of his body could be seen, his normally split skin now smoke-like and the color of the void. His eyes stayed the same colors, and the crown upon his head was the same color as his skin. 

The man in the green and the one with the pink hair kept the gaze on him. The one in the trench coat, the one in the white and red shirt, and the one in a dark green button up looked around. Some part of him took satisfaction in the panic that danced in their eyes for a moment. Well, it was there in the younger two’s, however it was not present in the trench coat man’s. 

“Well,” Ranboo’s voice bought everyone’s attention to him as he crossed his right leg over the right. He paused for a moment before teleporting in front of the man in the green and the pink haired man. The teen took note of how they didn’t flinch. 

“Follow me. We have much to discuss.” From behind him, his mother cracked a single purple eye open. From their connection, Ranboo felt her protectiveness settle on his shoulders like a grounding blanket. He turned to the left without looking behind him. The young prince made a signal with his hands, making it appear as though he was waving away the guards. In reality, a few would enter the tunnels beneath the castle and follow in case anything went wrong. 

Silently, the guards left leaving only Ranboo to lead the group of five humans through the castle. It was silent as they made their trek, of course until, one of them spoke up. 

“So, why’re you all foggy ‘nd shit?” The question was met with the four others hushing him harshly. 

Ranboo kept his facade up. “Protection.” He replied simply. 

“From what?” The person childishly asked. 

“From you.” 

“Tommy, if you don’t shut-“ 

“Why us?” 

“Why, I’m a weak and feeble pri-king who could never fight five people at once.” He lets the people focus on his sarcasm laced words as mother sends him displeased amusement. 

The answer silences the group and Ranboo finds himself relieved. He makes a right and opens a wooden door. He steps in, his guests following him. Ahead of him is rows and rows of bookshelves, just past them is a large table used for business meetings like this one. 

He leads the group through one row of bookshelves and to the table. A map of the Wrongfully Undead Kingdom rests on the obsidian surface. Blue lanters light this room, casting a less omonious light across the room. 

“Please, take a seat.” Ranboo offers, though his tone suggests it’s a command rather than an offer. A few huffs escape his guests as they take their seats. Ranboo, of course, takes his seat at the head. The man with the green sits across from him. 

“We should get started with the pleasantries first. My name is King Ranboo of the wrongfully undead, successor of Queen Elazeth” He shortens his title, knowing the humans wouldn’t understand his full introduction on Galactic. 

The man across from him speaks. “King Philza Minecraft of the Antarctic Empire.” 

Then the one with the pink hair. “Technoblade.” He introduces himself. Ranboo takes note of how King Phil nudges him and says prince. 

Then the one with the trench coat. “Former Prince Wilbur Soot.” 

_Are they all related?_ Mother askes.

Finally the one that was asking questions in the hallway. “Prince Tommy and Tubbo.” Ranboo flinches from the way the young prince’s voice echoed. 

Ranboo nods. And sends a reply to mother. _Apparently._

“Right. Pleasure to meet you, your majesty’s.” Ranboo states awkwardly, all previous traces of his tough act melting away. He clears his throat at the tense silence that settles in the room and looks down at the map. “What exactly do you need our help with?” 

King Phil responds as usual. “There’s a threat coming to Essempi. We were going to keep from getting involved but now it’s pushing into our territory.” He explains. 

Ranboo nods and suddenly perks up, remembering the map he had tucked away. “One second.” The teen teleports to a bookshelf on his left. He scans the shelf carefully, not finding the scroll. 

He teleports to the shelf on the other side of the room, unaware of the eyes attempting to track him. It takes him three more time teleportations before finding the scroll. Once he does he teleports back to the table. Rolling out the scroll so the whole table can see it. 

“Can you tell me where they’re pushing from?” Ranboo is looking down at the map, waiting for anyone to speak up. He is greeted with silence however. Curiously, and slightly irritated, he looks up. Only to be met with everyone’s eyes on him. “Wha-“ 

_You used a lot of energy. You’re in your usual form. The solid one._

“Oh..” He says the syllable out loud. Now over aware of the cape that drapes across his shoulders. Almost too aware of the gold link that clasps the clothe over his shoulders. He’s definitely too aware of the black suit that lays under it. One of his ears flicks from where both stand straight up on his head. His earrings softly brush against each other with a _clang._

From where it is, hidden behind his mask, his mouth goes dry. With a gloved hand, he straightens his crown and ignores the nervous induced flush crawling up his neck and down his ears. “Gentlemen, where are they approaching?” 

King Philza snaps out of it first. “They’re coming from the south. However there is an area here,” the man points to a completely white area on the map. It’s a plains between the Antarctic Empire and the rest of Essempi. “Where there is no cover whatsoever.” 

Ranboo hums in acknowledgment as a gloved hand rests on his chin. “My soldiers are experts in stealth. When they go through the forest here,” he points to a forest near the plains. “We can set archers up in the trees and split the army into two. Half are hidden in the forest and the other half stay with your troops.” 

The pink haired man nods, considering the plan. “How well can they see at night?” 

Ranboo finds himself smiling in pride despite them being unable to see it. “It’s always night here. So, yes, they can see.” 

“Accuracy?” Technoblade askes. 

“Can pin a fly to a chorus fruit tree without killing it.” The answer seems to satisfy the man and they move on to further details.

They keep talking for another hour, and once the official plans were over, the younger two began asking Ranboo questions. 

“How old are you?”   
“Old enough.” 

“Why’s your hair split colored like that?”   
“Tubbo, you can’t just ask somebody why they’re hair is a specific col-“  
“Genetics.” 

Much to the announce of the other three men, the two boys kept going. 

“When were you born?”   
“On a day.” Ranboo answers before ‘Tommy’ perked up. 

“Were you born before or after April 9th 2004?”

Ranboo takes a moment to answer, trying to calculate where his birthday would fall on the human’s calendar. Hesitantly he responds, “Before?” It comes out more as a question as the young king double checks his thinking. 

“So your younger than me?” The blonde replies. “No, I’m pretty sure that makes me older.” 

The young blonde grumbles under his breath, only stopping when King Philza sends him a half hearted glare. They have finished all official agreements, Undead soldiers will assist the Antarctic Empire. In return, the defeat of their enemies will allow Princr Technoblade to free them of their curse. 

As his guests conversed with each other, Ranboo lightly stomped his foot on the floor twice. No one seemed to notice the code and only looked up when a servant came in with a stack of paper and a quill. Ranboo thanked them in their native tongue. 

“Right,” Ranboo began,” I’m going to write the draft declaration. One of the scribes will make it more official. I’ll still need everyone in here to sign.” 

Agreements circle around the table as Ranboo begins writing. His hands however, have decided to shake. Looking down at his white glove, he can see the dim purple glowing of his veins. Panic swells within him as his hands start itching- almost burning. 

_nononono, this can’t happen now-_

_Take a deep breath, little king. Focus on the matter at hand, if you ignore it the pain will fade._

Ranboo follows her instructions and pauses for a moment. He inhales the cold air of the room before exhaling warmth through his mouth. The purple tinted smoke escapes from the sides of his mask. Carefully, he continues writing. He attempts to listen to the conversation between his guests but their native language is untranslatable to him. He can only catch a few words. 

“..dragon...”   
“..home..”   
“...food.”   
“..odd..”

Ranboo finishes the draft and clicks his heel against the floor. This catches the others’ attention. “When will you need my army?” 

“As soon as possible.” King Phil answers. Ranboo passes him the papers and begins thinking as the group begins signing the papers. 

“We can get the portal lit tonight and be ready in the morning.” Ranboo fidgets with his gloves underneath the tables, ready to be away from the other royalty in the room. Absentmindedly, he sends those thoughts to his mother. 

Immediately he feels warmth around him, just like the hugs she used to give him when he was younger. Finally, the papers make their way back to him. He barely looks at the signatures as another servant enters the room. 

“Take them to the guest rooms, then take that to the scribe. Please?” Ranboo tells them in Galactic. 

“Of course my king.” They respond. 

“Follow them, they’ll take you to your rooms.” Ranboo tells the visitors with a unseen smile. Ranboo filters their words out as they leave the room, his breathing becoming labored behind the mask. 

Thankfully, the door clicks shut. As soon as he’s alone, he teleports to his room. The bedroom is darker than usual, a few of the lanterns glowing dimly. The young king finds himself leaning against his dresser to keep balance. He had used a lot of energy today. 

With a shaking hand, he tugged his mask down so it only covered his chin. Ranboo looked up and spotted his reflection. Purple veins glowed under his dual colored skin. He forced a breath out through his mouth, ignoring the burning coming from his lungs. 

Immediately following the breath, purple smoke leaves his mouth. In the back of his throat, he can feel the dragonfire dying. Shakily, the teen coughs causing more smoke and ash to leave his mouth. Once the hoarse coughing dies down, he pries off his gloves. 

His talons have grown. The once soft skin of his hands and fingers was replaced with scales. The scales’ rough texture would no doubt get caught on the gloves. Ranboo finds himself chuckling darkly, the curse was getting to him quicker than it should be. 

“This is gonna be interesting, huh?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also wrote this one in three different sessions so the writing style may go from kinda good to hecking scuffed so sorry about that!! I also didn’t edit cause I’m vvvv excited! 
> 
> Enjoy <3 
> 
> Also major gore warning this chapter o.o also body horror(?) at the beginning. 
> 
> Body horror ends at “over the next few days, they would make history” 
> 
> Gore starts at “He wouldn’t die here. He let himself go...”   
> and ends end “it still rages on hours later..” though there are mentions of blood!!!

Ranboo thought he’d be prepared for this. He assumed the lessons his mother had taught him before- well just _before_ \- would help. But no, not even his mother’s gentle words when he was young helped. Nor did the comfort she sent through their connection. Nothing seemed to take away the pain. 

He found himself writhing in his bed, tangling his limbs in his black sheets. Somewhere between the tiredness and the pain, he felt hopeless. He could do nothing but grit his teeth and take it as his bones ached with a pain screaming for relief. He was useless as his jaw seemed to expand in an attempt to keep his growing fangs from penetrating his gums. 

Ranboo found himself especially weak against the fire in his chest. The fire within would grow, raising his normally cool body temperature. Sweat drenched him, causing the parts of his skin that wasn’t covered in scales to stick to the sheets. The teen couldn’t do much against the coughs that wracked his body, causing fire to escape from his lungs. Quickly followed was the ash and smoke. 

It got worse as the hours ticked on, leaving him unable to move in the center of his bed. The pain in his bones and fire in his lungs was too much. Not able to take the pain anymore, he cried. His mother’s lullaby was faded to the background as the tears rolled down his face. 

Still in pain and burning from the inside out, he fell asleep.

* * *

Morning- or well ‘Violet Dawn’ came much quicker than the young King wanted. Too soon he was prying open his dual colored eyes and seeing the usual black sky now a dark violet. Once awake, the teen finds himself laying still and watching the sky turn a few shades brighter than usual. He wouldn’t admit it, even to mother, but he’s scared. Right now, he’s scared to move in fear of how his body will react. 

But for later? He’s terrified. It would be his army’s first time out of their dimension, what if the curse had grown? What if it was a trap all along? What if he died without having a next in line? Gods, he was only sixteen! 

_You’re almost seventeen._ His mother chimes in. 

_That doesn’t change the fact that I’m scared, momma. But this is our one chance._

_You were destined for greatness, little king. If you would like, I can accompany you._

Ranboo sends his gratitude through their connection. With stiff movement, he climbs out of his bed. His arms shake a bit at the movement and his joints protest. Gritting his, now much more curved, teeth he pushed through it. His feet finally touches the floor after what feels like years of slowly moving. With both of his feet planted on the floor, he stands. 

Ranboo finds his balance slightly askew, and surely the floor was slightly closer yesterday. With a sigh, he looks into the mirror perched on his dresser. The usual sight greets him, his hair a mess, burn scars on the corners of his eyes. His eyes wonder to the bottom half of his face. His skin is usually black and white, but the flesh around his mouth and nose is drained of color. Purple veins are more prominent here, softly pulsating underneath his skin. His cheeks are hallow and also sporting the purple veins. 

His lips are cracked too, no matter what he does they always are. With a longer than usual finger, he peels back his lips to observe his teeth. His gums are now an inky black, the only contrast the familar shade of purple near the roots of his teeth. On the topic of teeth, the bottoms of each of his teeth are now purple while the tips are black. Ranboo finds himself sighing as he released his lip. Of course his fangs had grown, the rest of his teeth getting sharper as well. 

Stepping away from the mirror, he clicks his socked heel against the floor. He usually dressed himself, but today was important. 

Over the next few days, they would make history.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, the young king found himself striding through the halls and to the dining room. This pair of boots is taller than usual, but the boy finds himself quickly adjusting. The black heeled boots were laced up to his knee where they were tucked behind his armor. The armor itself was the highest grade of netherite. Behind his chest plate he wore his usual suit but in all black. The only difference being the spiral of gold wither roses sewn into the suit jacket’s left arm. 

Of course, the armor covered most of it. The cloak was his favorite. It was passed down for generations, constantly repaired and kept in top condition for days like this. It’s weight was almost as comforting as his usual one. Instead of a chain, this one was clasped together with a strange crystal. 

Finally, Ranboo reached the dining room. The room silenced as he walked in. All eyes were on him as he strided in. The feeling was odd, the young king was both used to it and not. As a king, he loved the attention he got. As a person, people watching him felt like mites eating away at his skin. 

Ranboo took his seat at the head of the table, a plate being placed down in front him. Two of his generals sit near him, one on the left and one on the right. Beside them, the humans sit facing one another. They’ve already taken bites out of their food, earning a glare from the general on his right.

With one gloved hand, he reaches to his belt. He clips off a very important object and brings it above the table. He flicks it open and holds it so it covers his mouth, with his free hand, he unclips his mask. The fabric falls away, allowing him to eat. 

The humans give him odd looks as he cuts into his food with his free hand. Only once his fork has entered his mouth, his generals begin eating. Surely they didn’t know about the tradition, but something in him was angry that they ignored his status. Ranboo pushed that feeling down, focusing on the sweet taste of his chorus fruit syrup drenched pancakes. 

Ranboo swallows his first bite, ignoring how the fluffy pancake irritated his throat. “Tell me about these enemies of yours?” His voice is hoarse and raspy. He’s thankful for the fan covering his face, he surely would’ve been blushing from the embarrassment. He was a king, he couldn’t afford showing something like that. 

King Phil begins speaking as the other princes (-and former?) begin poking at their food cautiously. 

“They’re known as Evokers. They’re wizards of sorts who usually have pillagers with them. They’re powerful spell casters, who we normally don’t have a problem with.” 

Ranboo took another bite of his pancakes, trying to comprehend everything being said. 

“Recently, their armies have expanded. They have non magic counterparts who wield axes and crossbows. They even have ravengers- who are basically battle rams.” The older man explains. 

Ranboo nods, ignoring the itch crawling up his face. “Are they more prone for long distance or short distance attacks?” 

It’s Prince Technoblade who answers. “Long distance mostly.” 

Beside him, the two generals begin talking to each other. They occasionally glance at Ranboo, but the young king only half listens. These two were his most trusted generals, they’re smart enough to not need his constant oversight. 

After all, he had more pressing matters to think about. Like the fact that the itch on his face is turning into a burning pain, and oh Ender not right now please-

_Put your mask back on, young king. You won’t last longer exposed._

Ranboo does what he’s told and re-hooks his mask. The fabric is comforting against his burning flesh. He flicks the fan in his hands closed, the sound bringing eyes to him. “Gentlemen, I do believe it’s time we get ready. Met me in the palace courtyard in ten minutes, our soldiers have to finish getting ready.” 

With that, Ranboo and his generals leave the table. He tried not to be too upset at his abandoned breakfast. After all, that was childish and he was a king. A king who was finally going to bring freedom to his people.

* * *

His soldiers flood the courtyard. Dark purple and black uniforms basically cover the usual coarse yard. There is a neat line down the middle, a walkway for him and his companions. Of course, the foreigners are already at the palace gates. 

That leaves Ranboo at the front of his smaller group. On his left and right are the generals from before, behind them were three of his highest ranked soldiers. Of course, very much behind them was his mother. 

Silence fell over the yard like a blanket as Ranboo looked out at the crowds. With a deep breathe, he took his first step. The sound of his heel clicking against the obsidian path seemed to echo. As he walked, he felt the tension in the air. He also felt the happiness and hope his people held at finally being free. 

Generation after generation had suffered, and Ranboo was going to end it. He was going to knock down the walls between the dimensions, and he was going to remind the world of their existence. He was going to remind them of the kingdom they had abandoned-

_You’re upsetting yourself._

The teen took a deep breathe as he finally reached the gates. He sent a nod to the humans and then called up to the gatekeeper. The skeleton soul pulled the lever and immediately, the gates opened. The gust of wind was so strong, it sent Ranboo’s cape flying as well as some enddust. 

As soon as they were up, the large group made their march into the city. 

Ranboo loved his kingdom, he’s been into it many times. During festivals the kingdom was lively and loud. Those celebrations reminded Ranboo of one of the rare times he was allowed to be a child. On his birthday, the city absolutely exploded with energy. Beads of chorus berries were worn for good luck since they were always his favorite fruit. They were smaller and much sweeter than regular chorus fruit. However, those lively times were the complete opposite end of the spectrum of what the kingdom was like now. 

It was tense, and quieter than usual. He supposed it was fair, after all it could be an elaborate plot to take over his kingdom. The king shook the thought away and continued his strut through the city. Crystals illuminated the highest buildings in the city, and Ranboo always found them quiet beautiful. So he sent a wish up to one as they entered the center of the city. 

_Please, let us return safely._

Before he’s ready, they reach the portal. It’s fully lit and a blinding white. It’s much larger than Ranboo thought it would be, but he supposes it’s necessary for this many people. It stretches maybe thirty feet in the sky, it’s perfect. 

“You can go through first. My people may need to adjust, you on the other side will help.” Phil nods and him and his princes go through. 

Once they disappear, Ranboo nods to his generals and group by group the soldiers disappear through the portal. It takes awhile, but once there’s only one or two groups left, he sends a message. 

_It’s clear now. We’ll go through together._

* * *

Phil somehow managed to communicate with the undead generals in broken Galactic to take their army to their positions. He stood in the middle of a crowd, watching as black and decaying bodies made their way to their destination. Tommy and Tubbo were nearby, Techno was checking weapons stock and Wilbur was out scouting. 

All he had to do was wait for the King to come through. The damn king. The ruler was mysterious and unpredictable. Going from threatening them one moment to agreeing to help them with the promise of lifting his curse. Hell, Phil wasn’t even sure it would work and the king so readily agreed. 

Phil was ready for anything to happen when the king left the portal. He was ready for the overworld to hurt the king, he was ready for amazement and questions. 

He was not ready for a void black dragon to fly through the world.

* * *

In a flash of white, Ranboo finally made it through the portal. He hung on desperately to his mother’s back as his vision finally focused on this new world. It was all so overwhelming. For a moment, he only saw blue as his mother flew up. 

However, the former queen quickly adjusted her flying position and Ranboo saw it. The white on the ground, the vegetation- trees- forest(?) growing across the field. It was all so beautiful. The air was cold but it was easy to adjust to after being in his cold kingdom his whole life. 

Eventually, the land and Ranboo is right in front of King Phil. The teen straightens his crown, immediately thankful his hair was fluffy enough to keep it on his head. 

“So, where will I be staying, your majesty?”

* * *

They set up camp that night. Prince Wilbur had come back, informing them that the enemies should arrive tommorow morning. It was currently night time, but the sky looked so much like home. Ranboo found himself staring up at it as the curse flared up like usual. 

He was curled up under his mother. His entire seven feet curled up in a ball under the former Queen’s wing. The flare ups weren’t as bad as usual, just a terrible itchiness that spread across his skin. It went from his mout up and down. It was like a fire spreading across his skin, killing his nerves as it traveled. 

It’s alright though. This would be the last night. Either tommorow he dies or this curse is finally dealt with. Either way he’ll be free. His life will end and he’ll just be a shorter chapter than usual in his people’s history book of rulers. He can only pray to his ancestors that his soul will join them in the void. Maybe he’ll finally be able to babe a child there. Free from responsibility and pain. 

He pushes himself further against his mother’s warm scales, ignoring the way his own scales ache to finally be exposed to the air. 

‘King Ranboo’s reign’ has a nice ring to it. Maybe the future students of his kingdom will relate to his chapter in history.

* * *

It happens too quickly. 

Too quickly the sun- _Oh Gods, it was so pretty_ \- had risen. Too quickly he had lined up with King Phil and his princes in front of their conjoined armies. They stood stiffly in the snow until commotion began to arise from the forest were the archers were perched. 

And then they charged. 

Ranboo quickly teleported to his mother’s bag as she began flying towards the forest. The trees had blocked most of their visibility, so Mother had let him down. He immediately joined the fray, twin daggers immediately unsheathed. 

The first target he found was one of the magic users- an evoker. The wizard cast a spell, summoning a hoard of tiny flying warriors. Immediately, the beings flew towards Ranboo. Their attacks didn’t hurt, but they were swiftly blocking his vision. 

Not caring who was watching, the teen tugged his mask down. He inhaled through his nose, ignoring how this cold fresher air burned his lungs slightly. He imagined his people dying here away from home, and something in him woke up. A fire lit in his chest, and through his mouth he let it out. 

Immediately the tiny warriors disappeared in the flames, defeated. Ranboo could feel his veins burning and energy focused on his eyes. He wouldn’t die out here. He let himself go, lunging at the magic user. His daggers found themselves embedded in their shoulders. An animalistic urge awoke, and the teen forced the daggers down to the man’s chest and only pulling them out when he was sure he would bleed out. 

Ranboo found himself oddly adjusted to the battlefield. Sure, arrows were flying and the whole thing was chaotic but some sport of his brain took over completely. Maybe it was his years of self defense classes that led to him killing a man with his own axe. Maybe it was some deity taking the wheel as he forced a crossbow shooters own arrow through their eye.

Whatever it was, it was definitely watching out for him when jaws suddenly sprang from the dirt. Another magic allusion that barely missed his ankle as he fought another man with an axe. The actions caught him off guard and the axe slashed across his face. Despite the sting Ranboo gritted his teeth through it. The man brought his axe down again and the teen barely managed to grab the handle before it struck. 

The axe was getting closer and closer but Ranboo still pushed back, ignoring the smirk on the enemies face and the fear clawing at his mind. Ranboo knows his next move will hurt but it’s all he has left- so he takes a deep breathe and lets the fire out on the man’s face. The smell hits him and that same animalistic urge comes back. As the man flinches back from the flame, Ranboo knees him in the gut. From the pain of the burn and the kick, the man looses his grip. Now wielding the axe, the teen forces it down. Blood immediately shoots up, and once again the king looses himself in the battle.

* * *

It still rages on hours later. They’re now in the field and Ranboo can feel his purple blood soaking through multiple locations. But, he still pushes on for his people. The slings of arrows have become background noise. Another instrument added to the orchestra of war. For a split moment he ponders if the clangs of swords would be familar to bells and the sound of axes against shields the percussion. This part of him, or his mindset right now loves the melody. 

Ranboo keeps going. Now, he rides on his mother’s back. They’re flying lower now, just over the heads of the enemies. Ranboo leans over and hits what enemies he can reach. With no warning, he hangs on desperately as his mother swan dives down. He can feel the wind howling in his ears and can feel the tears building in his eyes as he keeps them open. Something drops in his stomach as the ground gets closer and closer- 

Until mother spreads her wings and begins to glide. Her jaw unhinges and the brightest fire leaves her mouth. Ranboo can only watch in childish awe as purple flames so similar to his only kills the enemies. To have such control of the flame is sacred. Ranboo can only manage his breathe so much but she makes it look so easy. 

They fly across the whole field, Ranboo using a crossbow he picked up in the midst of battle to shoot any magic users who dodge the fire attack. The duo put a dent in the enemy soldiers population and things are going great until something gets launched up at them. Thankfully, mother manages to move so it only hits her side. 

Unfortunately, it is the side Ranboo is on. The young King finds himself flying through the air, desperately fumbling around for anything to grab even though there is nothing. His eyes focus on the ground and for a moment he’s sure this is it. He’s too scared to teleport to the ground and his heart is beating too fast- oh Gods, he’s only sixteen what did he do wrong? 

The train of thought ends as he feels arms wrap around him. It’s warm and he’s suddenly aware of his eyes being closed. But he’s flying now, someone’s arms wrapped around him. Hesitantly, he pries open an eye. A familar shade of green meets his eyes and he’s suddenly aware that his mask is still off. 

“Your highness.” He greets king Phil. “T-thank you.” 

“No problem. Look!” The older king turns in the air so the younger can see. The sight that meets Ranboo’s eyes is a good and bad one at the same time. 

The first thing he sees is the dark bodies dotting the snow. His Kingdom’s armor lies abandoned with a few swords as well. The sight makes him want to cry, because his people will never experience true freedom. On the other hand, the enemies are retreating. Their grey forms run back into the forest, and relief and grief wash over him like twin waves. 

“Wow..” he finds himself saying simply. Phil lowers them to the ground, right next to where his mother is now resting. One of her wings looks slightly crooked, but she looks more or less fine. As soon as he touches the ground, he hears his name called in Galactic. 

It’s his generals, and behind them was the remaining army. The young king found himself happy that a lot more survived than died. Turning away from Phil, and blocking out his voice as he addressed his sons- when did they get here?- he spoke to the generals. 

The young king informed them that the curse should lift in their dimension as well. He promises to be there soon and with that, the young king watched them retreat, victorious. 

Ranboo is only aware of the smile on his face when he feels the veins begin to burn again. That all but wipes it away, and the teen hooks his mask back on. Suddenly, a hand rests on his shoulder. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he became too aware of the pain the hand caused on the bruise there. 

The teen ignored it in favor of looking behind him. Surprisingly, only Princes Wilbur and Techno and King Phil were behind him. 

“I believe we owe you payment.” Wilbur spoke, and though he had a smile on his face, Ranboo felt like something was hiding behind that charismatic smile. 

“Mmhmm.” He agreed, clearing his throat his vocal cords protested. 

“Listen, King Ranboo. There’s something we didn’t tell you about the curse, or rather how to lift it.” 

Ranboo turned all the way around, his movements slow and calculated. He didn’t feel safe right now. Absentmindedly, his eyes began to glow. He’s vulnerable he knows he is. The young king watches as Techno begins walking behind him, and he tries his best to keep all three men in his view. 

“Ranboo, you’re a good person. A good ruler and I’m not sure what your relation is with this dragon but we need them to free your people.” Wilbur states and Ranboo feels anger claw at him but most prominently he feels fear. The feelings only grow as he watches King- no, as he watched Phil unsheathe his sword. The older male’s wings are tucked against his back now and his face his blank. The face of a hunter. 

Ranboo is shocked for a moment, watching as his mother unknowingly attempts to tend to some of her wounds. Once his brain finally catches up, the teen runs towards his mother. The last thing he had left other than his kingdom, the only one who kept him grounded while he was fighting the curse. 

Only for a weight to barrel into him and pin him to the ground. 

Every wound in his body protests as he’s thrown down. Vaguely, he’s aware of the blood trickling down his face. 

_Mom! Mom! He’s going to attack you!_

That alarms her. Immediately, her form is taking to the sky and he can hear her pained roars and smell her fire but he can’t see- 

Between the pain, fear, and exhaustion he can’t focus on anything. Ranboo tries to teleport but his heart is beating too much and he’s teleported a few times today and he’s scared. Technoblade’s knee digs right into his ribs that were injuries earlier. So, the teen goes limp and cries. 

Cries because he got his mother killed. The one support he had, she’ll be gone. He looked up, finding his mother in a much more terrible state. Her flying is unbalanced and her fire isn’t nearly as bright. He feels his eyes slip shut and when he opens them again, she’s on the ground. Phil stalks towards her. 

The sight fills Ranboo with adrenaline, desperation. Technoblade was obviously caught off guard as Ranboo was able to get him off. With unsteady legs, the teen ran towards Phil and the dragon, only to be pulled back by his arms by Wilbur. 

He wasn’t sure what he was saying, but Ranboo was screaming. Fire follows his yells, making his voice rasp yet again. He struggles against Wilbur’s hold as Phil raises his words and the blade is reflected in the moonlight and Ranboo can’t help but think about how the snow will be ruined- 

And purple blood stains the ground. 

“No!” Ranboo is sure he screams as mother’s head falls limp and he can feel the lack of life through their connection. It felt like a part of him had died as tears poured down his face. 

A white light blinded him, coming from his mother’s crumbled form. The people holding him back let go in reaction to the light and Ranboo found himself shielding his eyes. 

When they opened, he was met with the sight of his gloved hands. But something was different. The skin visible on his wrists was lighter with a few splotches of darker skins. His pale purple veins were on the inside of his wrist was replaced by dark spiderwebs. 

Ranboo ignored the sight as he stood up, now aware of the lack of anyone holding him back. On shaking legs, he began running. One of his legs was busted so he let it drag behind him, falling the last couple of steps to where her body lay. He crawled the rest of the way there, ignoring the tears racing down his face. 

Her skin was pale with the same darker colorings that he seemed to now have. Her body was cold but she was supposed to be warm- her hugs were usually warm and her scales and her smile when he did well in school. She usually smelled like books and ink but now she smelled of iron and ash and death. 

“Momma?” His voice cracked as he wrapped her arms around her limp form. “Mom?” Her blood was on him- he could feel it. “Mother?” He sent his sadness through their connection but it stayed in his mind, he didn’t get her immediate comfort. Didn’t get her words of comfort and that only made him hold her harder. 

“Mom!” Mournful screams filled the air as his last bit of childhood was stripped from him again. He was still laying on the ground with her, her blood staining the snow as more tears raged down his face. 

Shock flooded his system as her body slowly faded away, white whisps filling the air she once occupied. Ranboo found himself sitting on his knees, watching with a blank expression as all of her faded away. Silent tears now rolled down his face, a contrast to the mournful screaming from before. 

He didn’t know why things were moving so fast, but suddenly anger took over. He stood quickly, ignoring the pain from his messed up leg and other wounds. He faced Wilbur Techno and Phil, his eyes still retaining their glow. 

“Why?” He asked, poison lacing his nearly gone voice. He forced himself to stand straighter, ready for the next attack should it come. 

“Ranboo- it was the only wa-“ 

“I am a king!” Ranboo finds himself yelling. Whatever part of him from the battle took over again. 

“King Ranboo, it was the only way. Listen, I’m sorry kid.” Phil still spoke. 

The tears still rolled, blurring his vision. “I’m not a kid. That was my mother and you took her away! Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice cracks halfway through the sentence and he reaches for his daggers. 

It passes in flashes again. At one point he’s threatening them. The next they’re slowly approaching with no weapons. After that, he’s pinned to the floor again. Despite how shot his throat is at that point, Ranboo remembers breathing fire at them, the sparks dying quickly. He can remember hands pinning his wrists down and knees pinning his damaged legs to the snow. 

He remembers crying and wanting to go home. He remembers looking up at the sky and seeing a sky so similar to the one he grew up under. 

And as his body becomes weightless, he can hear a voice. 

_You should rest, little king. I’ll always be with you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole book is written as practice lol and because I’m having major writing block. 
> 
> Nonetheless I hope you enjoyed! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A promise and an excerpt from future history books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Everybody wants to rule the world’ has now officially been my music motivation for like,, three or four stories lol

Ranboo isn’t sure how long he’s been here, wherever here is. All he knows is that she’s gone. She’s gone and he doesn’t know why, but he feels numb. Like the whole thing is a bad pain induced dream he’ll wake up from in a few seconds. 

So, he stays in bed. He stares up at the ceiling and sometimes the wall, sometimes the window. He’s in scratchy bandages and a yellow long sleeve and baggy sweatpants. The material of the clothes are scratchy compared to the soft fabric from home. They don’t have the smell of books on them or the familar sent of ink, they aren’t warm like she was. They don’t hug him like she did, instead they hang from his form as he recovers. 

Oh yeah. King Philza has him locked up here for ‘safety.’ The teen supposes he really isn’t locked up, he could leave whenever he wanted. It took to much effort without her here. What was the point in getting up if it wasn’t to snuggle under her wing? What was the point if he wasn’t going to receive her support during a painful night? 

He laid there, in that bed. He refused food when they bought it, he refused to speak when they did, he didn’t even acknowledge their existence. 

Only with Tommy and Tubbo did he give them something to work with. In shaky common, the king had written a note, asking for his cloak. Tubbo had nodded and brought the fabric to him. Both boys pretending not to notice when the young king held it and cried. 

Ranboo pretended not to notice Tommy messily fold the note he had written and stuff it into his pocket. The next time they visited to check his less worrying wounds, he spoke two words. 

“Thank you.” 

No words were exchanged after that. Ranboo went back to ignoring the three older royals. Ignoring the way Techno would pour some pink liquid over his still healing wounds. Ignored how Wilbur chattered on and on when he brought food that was never eaten. Ignored Philza’s existence internally. In fact, Ranboo made a conscious effort to not move when the man came in. 

It went on like that until he was ‘healed’. 

Or rather, the teen woke up one day and found a note folded on the table beside him. With a shaking hand he reached for it from his bed. It was messy Galactic. His eyes skimmed over the words, only retaining the fact that he can leave today. Stiffly, he placed the note back where it was before sitting up. 

He looked to his left, making eye contact with his reflection. His once green eye is now swirled with bits of light grey and a few specks of blue. The red one has stayed red, oddly. His hair stayed the same, half white and half black. Ranboo looked at his face, and took in every detail that was unfamiliar to him. 

Once peal white skin is now a fleshy, pale, pink. Randomly, the skin is a darker tone. In places, like around his mouth, his veins were very prominent. They spread out like black spider webs across his skin. He noticed the webs could be seen in the places his scale once were. 

The teen looked away from the mirror and saw his clothes. Every rip in the fabric was repaired, every speck of dirt washed out. He could still see her blood on it. 

Ignoring the black dots in his vision, he stood and got dressed. The fabric slipping over his skin was familar and he wished it didn’t smell of blood. Ranboo ignored it though, he was getting good at that, instead focusing on buttoning his dress shirt. 

His hands shook slightly as he buttoned the last one and took a deep breathe. The task took too much energy and frankly the young king was over it. Ranboo pulled on his blazer ,and his cloak, and called it quits. Shakily, he sat on the bed, facing the mirror. 

He hated how easily he can imagine his skin evenly split between black and white, scales scattered around randomly. He hated how perfect his suit looked. It was the same one from before the battle, as black as the void with the golden wither roses. It was strikingly easy to notice where they had attempted to fix the roses. The thread colors didn’t match and the sewing was messier than is should be. A yellow glint of light brought his attention to the object hanging off the top corner of the mirror.

Dangling there was his crown. Stiffly, he sat up and made strides to the mirror. He reached up and grabbed the crown, ignoring how the cold seemed to seep through his gloves. Ignoring the soreness of his arms, he placed the crown on his head. The familar weight was a little comforting and he focused on it, letting it ground him. 

His focus was broken by the door opening. Ranboo turned to see who it was, seeing the familar figure of Wilbur leaning on the doorframe. 

“We didn’t think you’d be ready to leave.” 

Ranboo finds himself not replying, instead standing up straight. He simply blinked at the human. Wilbur huffed in response before moving out of the way and leaving the room. 

Ranboo followed him, letting his mind wonder as he was led out of the castle. He barely noticed the figures of Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno joining them. At the final gate of the castle, Phil joined them. The man is speaking but Ranboo’s too focused on the snow falling just outside the gate. It swirls peacefully, dancing on the air before collapsing on the floor. This time he figured he enjoyed it more because it wasn’t symbolizing a last beauty before the gruesomeness of war. This time it’s a goodbye. 

Silently, the group walks through the portal. Ranboo finds himself being extra careful about his balance. They make it to the portal and everyone stands still for a moment. Ranboo gazes at it, knowing what it will lead to. What it’s already lead to. So, with ever dry lips, he begins to speak. 

“Phil,” he ignored the man’s title. What king strikes someone dead so willingly? Is mercy a foreign language to humans? The older man turns to Ranboo at the sound of his name. 

“I hope you know that if you ever come to us for help again, I will personally ensure your death on the spot. Unlike you, I’m giving your kids a warning.” Ranboo takes a step towards the portal before turning back around, facing the now on edge group. 

“You’ve made an enemy, and the next time I see you, I hope you remember that.” He hopes his scratchy voice got the severity of the threat through. The young king steps backwards into the portal, allowing the vision of the humans fade as white overtakes his vision.

* * *

Things change, yet they don’t. 

His mother’s gone, Ranboo has long since accepted that at this point. Even months after, he would still miss her. He’ll still feel like somethings missing. The memory of that day is foggy at best, but the scar across his face and the memory of green eyes serve as harsh reminders. He knows the thought of the color green sends a fire blazing through his throat. Strangely, a few of the powers from the curse remain. He can still spark flames, his eyes still glow. It appears that a few of the once undead still have traits from the curse. 

The once withered souls don’t get sick and have a ashy tint to their skin, the skeleton souls are fragile, and the Ender can still make their eyes glow. They’re still his people. 

His people.

Despite everything, he still tried to be a fair and just ruler. That’s what mother taught him to do. To ignore his pain and see to his people with a clear mindset and solve things peacefully. 

Which is the exact reason he doesn’t kill the first visitor to his kingdom. It’s the same reason he sits across from a man with a smile mask for a face. Ranboo finds it ironic at first, that the man’s most obvious facial feature is a smile, despite him being serious. He wears green, but the shade doesn’t spark the aggression the same way darker green does.

He listens as the man explains his problem, and more notably his need for an ally. The man’s world has spun from his control and he needs someone with experience in leading. Someone who has no reason to stab a dagger through his back. So he offers Ranboo a deal. Trade routes to his kingdom and territory in the human world for a helping hand. 

His people need it. So, for the second time in his reign, Ranboo helps a foreigner. 

At the age of 17, Ranboo follows a masked man through a portal. 

They say the world was confused as the king was officially part of their society. The two were spotted going through numerous villages until they made their way to the Dream Essempi. 

Witnesses say the young king had looked former king Philza in the eye. Frozen by the teen’s heavy eye contact, the man remembered a raspy voice promising his doom. 

With the help of King Ranboo, Dream got his kingdom under control. With the promise of power, King Ranboo fulfilled a promise he made almost a year ago. 

Like a king many generations before him, Ranboo debated if the kill was worth the power. 

He decided it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect lots of updates this week I’m feeling motivated yall! 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this, cause it’s been fun to write :)

**Author's Note:**

> Yooooo clarifications:  
> Ranboo’s mom (the previous Queen) is now a dragon. The only one she can communicate with is Ranboo.  
> The curse is affecting our boy rn earlier than expected  
> Ranboo and his people could have left any time they wanted through the portal, but due to past attempts at this, they have not. The ruler before Ranboo’s mom tried this and a lot of their kind got killed. 
> 
> Also!! I have a lot of ideas for other things (One-shots, my other series, etc.) in fact, too many. So please be patient with me while I try to juggle that and school! Thank you for reading <3


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